


The Undeath Of A (Former) Bachelor

by Cabbagiez



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Feels, Bisexual Stan Pines, Drowning, Homeless Stan Pines, M/M, Mullet Stan Pines, Resurrection, Stan Pines Angst, Stan Pines Needs A Hug, Stan Pines-centric, Tears, Undead, Water, also known as stan's literal worst day of his life, technically
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:08:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24591310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cabbagiez/pseuds/Cabbagiez
Summary: When something goes horribly, horribly wrong, Stan has to grapple with what he's become while trying to help the one he saved.
Relationships: Stan Pines/Jimmy Snakes
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22





	The Undeath Of A (Former) Bachelor

This was not how today was meant to go. Maybe Stan could’ve been in the local pool hall with his partner. Maybe he’d be in a diner, laughing his ass off and being a nuisance. Maybe, in a perfect world, he would’ve been with his brother on the open sea by now. But this wasn’t a perfect world, and that was more clear than ever. The question must be raised, then, where was Stan? What was so horrible for him to experience that he was contemplating his brother for the first time in seven years? 

Well.

The roaring water above him, splashing across his back and the rope around his neck, soaking him to the bone as the water level rose steadily certainly answered the question. Andrew “8-Ball” Alcatraz would’ve thought of a way out, a way to save himself from this situation. A way to get out of this storm drain and back into the arms of his most recent lover. As it stood, Stanley Pines was beginning to panic. Straining on the ropes would just drop him into the growing pit of freezing wet, and the constant bombardment was sapping his strength as quickly as his temperature. 

_But if I don’t- then Jimmy-_

He couldn’t finish his thought, letting his head hang after the exertion to hold it up became too much. Stan opened his mouth to call for help and got a splash of water in response, only barely able to spit it up before the next came.

_Oh God. I’m going to die here._

The realization struck him like a sack of bricks, and in an instant he stopped struggling. Letting his eyes droop shut.

Darkness.

Silence.

The only sound was his heartbeat, filling his mind like a 21-gun salute.

_Wait. My heartbeat._ He wrenched his mouth open with a gasp, coughing up cotton. A full breath filled his lungs as he sighed in relief. Stan’s relief was short lived though, as he tried to sit up and found himself confined. Bolts of pain shook his body as he stifled the need to cry out, patting down what contained him to find a seam.

_RRRRRRIP_

Free. He was free. _Blink blink._ The fluorescence of wherever he was nearly blinded him anew but Stan kept moving, not giving the markings across his body a second glance. He knew the layout of buildings like this- mortuaries in police stations. “Gotta get clothes,” Stan mumbled to himself, still straining to ignore the pain at every step. Wasn’t too hard to get, he just looted what was going to be destroyed, pulling a white t-shirt stained with blood and torn jeans. Next order of business. Getting out. That wasn’t difficult either, the folks on duty were nowhere to be found. Once he was out the cold air hit him, sending a broken memory into his formerly-gone mind.

_8? Eight, tell me you’re fooling- Oh god. HE’S-_

He came back with a gasp, shaking it off and starting to head where he knew his car would end up. Where it was before everything. A shady lot on the side of town where no one ever bothered him, not even the pigs. He would’ve stayed in this city forever if it wasn’t for what happened. But, no time for dwelling on that.

His arrival found his car how he left it, except for two key details.

  1. It was unlocked.
  2. There were things in the back seat that didn’t belong to him. 



Stan forced back tears as he opened the passenger door. A little memorial for him was set up, with bags of toffee peanuts, packs of his favorite cigars, and photos of him with…

_Jimmy._

He climbed into the car, picking up the bag beside his own memorial and pulling something out. Jimmy’s jacket. Each and every patch showed it had to be. “Jimmy, you… you son of a bitch,” Stan choked out, pushing the jacket up to his nose and inhaling. Caked in that smell that was so him, cigarette smoke hidden by fruity drinks and the slightest hint of blood. That was it. That put him over the edge.

That night, a once dead man broke down sobbing in the car he once owned, holding the jacket of who he once loved. 

But you can’t pocket the 8 ball until everything else is gone. He got up and moved to the front, starting the car and _driving._

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all like this! I came up with this AU on the spot one day and I figured, hey, why not write it?


End file.
